


Unexpected And Unconditional

by loves_books



Category: Lewis (TV)
Genre: F/M, Lewis Summer Challenge 2017, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-26
Updated: 2017-08-26
Packaged: 2018-12-20 02:56:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11911752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loves_books/pseuds/loves_books
Summary: It’s not something either of them ever expected to happen. James has never lain awake at night fantasising about the possibility, and he’s sure Laura would say the very same thing, so it comes as something of a shock to the system. To say the very least.





	1. James

**Author's Note:**

> Set around the end of Season Four. Unbetaed I’m afraid, though huge thanks to Perclexed for offering advice and encouragement on a very early draft – any and all mistakes are entirely my fault.

It’s not something either of them ever expected to happen. James has never lain awake at night fantasising about the possibility, and he’s sure Laura would say the very same thing, so it comes as something of a shock to the system. To say the very least. 

The first time it happens is after a long evening of celebratory drinking, once a difficult and challenging case has finally been delivered into the hands of the CPS. After the team leave the pub, James tries to be a good gentleman and escorts Laura to her front door, fully intending to leave once he sees she is safe, but instead, to his great surprise, he finds himself grabbed by his loosened tie and tugged inside after her. 

The taxi they had shared roars off into the night noisily as their lips meet in an unexpected yet far from unwelcome kiss.

He’s always thought she was beautiful, in the slightly detached way one admires a friend, and it’s been an embarrassingly long time since James was last with anyone, and so, for once, he makes the split-second decision not to overthink things. In fact, he doesn’t think very much at all – things move quickly, and they leave a trail of hastily removed clothes strewn throughout Laura’s house, ending inevitably with both of them naked in her bed, lips locked together and drunken hands roaming greedily all over newly discovered skin as their bodies slide together almost effortlessly.

It doesn’t last long, thanks in no small part to a week of sleepless nights for both of them, not to mention James’s numerous pints of beer and Laura’s handful of double-vodka-tonics, but they do manage to share a brief yet highly pleasurable shag before virtually passing out side by side, not even making it beneath the blankets.

James does have one brief moment of disoriented panic when he wakes by Laura’s side the next morning, though she still looks as beautiful as she always does even with slightly bloodshot eyes, but after they’ve each downed a pint of water and swallowed some paracetamol, they both blame the alcohol for their actions. They ruefully agree to chalk it all up to experience, promising each other no regrets and no awkwardness going forwards. 

He can’t help but wonder exactly how well that might work, though they part with an easy exchange of kisses on cheeks, and as James walks slowly home in the cool summer morning he swears to himself that he will forget it ever happened, confident that Laura is making herself similar promises at the same moment. 

But of course it happens again, in spite of their best intentions, and it’s just as much of a surprise as the first time.

The second night James shares Laura’s bed starts off purely as an attempt to offer her some comfort after the conclusion of a particularly traumatic case for them all. She’d nearly been buried alive, rescued by Robbie and James at the last possible moment, and he is so scared of leaving her alone in her flat that he lies down on the bed by her side instead, still fully clothed apart from his shoes, belt and tie, intending to simply keep watch while she sleeps. 

James isn’t quite sure how or why he ended up being the one to take Laura home rather than Robbie, but he’s incredibly glad of the fact nonetheless. He doesn’t want to be alone either. He already suspects that leaping down into that dark and damp grave to save Laura, hearing her scream and sob even as he brushed the dirt carefully from her face, will haunt him for the rest of his life.

In the warm darkness of her bedroom, just when he is sure she’s finally fallen asleep, she suddenly leans across and kisses him with a surprising sense of desperation. She reaches one clever hand down between his legs, begging him wordlessly, and heaven knows he’s no saint – he returns her kisses immediately, letting himself be pushed onto his back as she climbs on top of him, and gives in to the need to reassure them both that they are alive and safe. 

It’s celebration as much as lust, and relief as much as desire. And it’s wonderful.

When dawn comes, they part with a far more passionate kiss than on that first morning-after, and with not a single word of excuses or regrets. Laura actually thanks James instead, even straightening out his tie as he blushes and bobs what he knows is an odd little bow, before he heads home for a quick shower and a fresh suit. He doesn’t expect it to happen again. That should be an end to it, surely.

But, to James’s utter amazement, barely a fortnight passes before they share a third night together, for no obvious reason, then a fourth, a fifth. They offer each other no excuses, and no explanations, and they ask each other for nothing. It’s unconditional; without discussing it, they simply settle into an easy routine where they fall into bed together whenever one or both of them need it, and the outside world, a world often filled with pain and disappointment and loneliness, can be forgotten for a short time.

James should feel guilty. He knows he should, but he doesn’t. He can’t. Each time Laura cups his long face gently with her slender fingers and pulls him down until her plush lips meet his in a needy kiss, and each time their starkly contrasting bodies come together in her bed or in his, guilt is the very last thing on his mind.

James needs this as much as Laura seems to. He’s using her, perhaps – she’s a friend, and she’s convenient, and she’s certainly more than willing – but he isn’t using her any more than she’s using him, for all the same reasons.

He does love her, but he isn’t _in_ love with her, and that’s a tiny but crucial difference. 

Laura isn’t in love with him either, but he still doesn’t know if that makes it all better or just makes it so much worse.

They are both in love with someone else, after all. Someone who might well love both of them, after his own fashion, but is very much still in love with his dead wife. Someone who can’t know how they feel about him. Someone neither of them want to hurt, not now, not ever.

James has always known that a handsome, kind, brilliant man like Robbie could never fall in love with someone like him, and even friendship is more than James could have hoped for when they first met, but he still can’t help the way he feels. The heart wants what the heart wants, after all. But he’s lonely, and Laura’s a friend, and so.

So sometimes they go to Laura’s house, with all its soft cushions and warm rugs. Sometimes it’s easier for them to go back to James’s flat instead, complete with his piles of musty books and the stone lion’s head hanging ominously above his bed. Wherever is closer, that’s where they go, after a shared look of need or a spark of electricity when their fingers brush unexpectedly.

One time they are even desperate enough to try Laura’s office in the morgue, long after working hours and alone beneath a flickering fluorescent light, but for the first time her questing hand finds him soft in his boxer-briefs. No amount of kissing and stroking changes that, sadly, and he is forced to conclude it’s the smell of disinfectant and antiseptic – there are bad memories lurking beneath the surface, memories he isn’t ready to share, but she kisses away his mortified apologies, takes him by the hand, and leads him out into the night.

It turns out that he has no such problem with the smell of leather in his brand new car, and they don’t make it all the way to either of their homes that night before he pulls over at Laura’s urging, though he does earn a painful crick in his neck and the inability to look at his backseat ever again without blushing fiercely.

But wherever they go, it’s never really planned, not much beyond the quirk of an eyebrow raised in question, or a hastily sent text message. Sometimes James will just _know_ that Laura needs him, and sometimes she seems to know the same about him, arriving on his doorstep just when he’s about to give in and call her. 

Whether it’s about comfort, or relief, or just the sheer joy of being alive, they don’t really talk about whatever is actually going on between them and what, if anything, it might all mean. They certainly don’t talk beforehand, when he is eagerly unhooking her bra or she is tugging his shirt free from his trousers, and never afterwards when she makes him coffee or he cooks her bacon and eggs.

Instead of talking, James will just kiss her and Laura will kiss him back, and he always finds her wet and wanting when they are finally both naked, when he is already achingly hard. It’s certainly no hardship – she’s beautiful, her body soft and welcoming, and she seems to find him easy enough on the eye, though heaven knows why. He’s tall and lanky, and he’s never been quite comfortable in his stringy body, while she is on the petite yet perfectly-formed side. They fit together well, though, which is all that really matters for this purely physical relationship.

Laura takes control more often than not, slightly more mature than James and certainly more confident in her own skin, and that sends a thrill rippling through him each and every time. She guides his hands into place on her chest, her nipples, her belly, and lower, telling him exactly what she wants from him. She pushes him down until he lies flat on his back before climbing over him and sinking down, a position he’s positive is her favourite, or she tugs him into place over her, sometimes seeming to need his weight to ground her after a long day.

They never talk much while they are naked either, not beyond a simple ‘yes’ or ‘please’ or ‘more’, but James knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that Laura isn’t thinking about him the entire time. He knows she is imagining the man she is actually in love with, the man she can’t have. And he also knows that she knows he is sometimes thinking about the self-same man as he grinds his hips down into her willing body, wringing cries of pleasure from her parted lips.

If either of them accidentally call Robbie’s name when they climax, the other always pretends not to hear. 

James should feel guilty. He should feel disgusted – with himself, of course, never with Laura. He should stop it, whatever _it_ actually is, before either one or both of them gets hurt. More importantly, they should stop it all before the man they both love finds out, because it will hurt Robbie deeply, as much as he would protest his happiness for the pair of them.

They aren’t doing anything wrong, though. They aren’t _his_. They are both single, consenting adults, and they are both getting something out of whatever the hell it is between them. 

James always makes sure Laura comes two, three, four times in a night, going down on her eagerly and tasting her delicious sweetness, then using his fingers and his cock to bring her over the edge time and again. And Laura returns the favour in a multitude of ways, on her knees with his straining cock deep down her throat, or spreading her legs wide to encourage him to take whatever he needs.

One time, Laura even secures James’s hands to her bed with his own tie, somehow sensing his unspoken need to give up all control to her after a distressing case shakes him to his core. He bursts into tears the moment he comes, and Laura wipes away those tears without saying a word, wrapping him up in blankets afterwards before soothing him to sleep with his head cradled over her heart. 

A week later, anxious to repay her tender attentions and mindful of a fantasy she’d whispered in his ear months earlier, James wakes Laura in the early hours of the morning, leading her outside before taking her from behind over her garden bench beneath the moonlight, relishing the way she tries so desperately not to shout out loud with delighted pleasure, wary and thrilled by the thought of waking her neighbours. 

It’s purely physical, whatever it is. That’s what James keeps telling himself, even once he realises they are sharing the same bed for more than half of each week. It’s purely a release of pent-up tension and frustration, even if on some nights now they only sleep peacefully side by side, his long arms wrapped around her waist and her cold feet pressed against his shins. He sleeps better when he’s by her side and it’s good for the heart and the soul, not to mention being a damn good workout for the muscles when they do make love. They have no reason to feel guilty, so they don’t, not for a second.

Until one night. One unremarkable evening in the pub, a night just like a thousand others they’ve shared as a trio, when Robbie suddenly looks across the table at the pair of them, where they sit innocently with drinks in hand. Perhaps they’re closer together than normal. Perhaps it was too visible when Laura slid her hand high on James’s inner thigh, or perhaps he was too quick to offer to walk her home later. 

Whatever it is that’s given them away, there’s a question in those bright blue eyes, something James has never seen from Robbie before. It’s the sign of a shrewd detective putting the pieces into place, followed by a flash of realisation and a hastily-swallowed gasp, and they shift apart a fraction even as Robbie keeps talking about his daughter’s forthcoming visit after barely missing a beat.

When James does walk Laura home later that same night, they talk about it all for the first time. Or, to be more accurate, they argue about it, fiercely and passionately. He says surely they should stop now, and she replies that she doesn’t see why it even started in the first place. Then he changes his mind, says they shouldn’t have to end things, and she tells him angrily that none of it really matters anyway – Robbie has no right to judge them, Laura says, and they should be able to do whatever they want. 

James hears himself asking her to tell him exactly what she does want, surprised to find just how strongly he wants her to reply that she only wants him, and Laura stops dead in the middle of the street, staring up at him in silence for a long time. Then she smiles suddenly, beautifully and almost secretly, and takes his hand. She leads him forwards in silence, all their anger melting away as they walk side by side together into the night.


	2. Laura

It takes Laura by surprise the first time it happens, though with hindsight she’ll think perhaps it really shouldn’t have done. After all, they are so often just standing there together, the two of them on the side-lines, waiting patiently for the utterly oblivious man that is Robbie Lewis. 

Sleeping with James is not something she’s ever dreamed about, or hoped for, and she’s reasonably sure James would say the same thing himself. Still, it’s a pleasant surprise all the same, and certainly not something she’d planned in advance.

She’s drunk but not too drunk, and James is tall and dishy and lovely, and just the right level of drunk himself, and so out of the blue she asks herself, why on earth not? He’s naturally startled when she grabs him by the tie but he kisses her back with an obvious and growing level of interest, and things move along very quickly. She starts to suspect that it’s been a while for him. It’s certainly been a while for her.

There’s more muscle than Laura expects to find, when she finally gets his shirt and trousers off – James has surprisingly broad shoulders for such a slender man, with well-defined biceps and pectorals, and while there’s no six-pack lurking beneath his vest, his belly is flat and firm, with no hint of the beer belly she might have expected. 

With hindsight she’ll remember that he still goes rowing regularly, and his toned thighs and backside will make much more sense, but in that moment all Laura sees is the way his skin is so beautifully smooth and pale, his hands strong and steady despite the alcohol. There is no hint of his usual slight awkwardness in the way he handles her body and responds eagerly to her demands.

She does have one brief moment of self-doubt when she first sees James in all his naked glory, wondering why he would want her, older and softer and rounded as she is. But the moment is just that, a single moment swept quickly away in the combination of alcohol and the genuine passion in his kisses, as well as the adrenaline rush of stroking hands and oh god, that’s good, yes right there, please.

James might well have been training to be a priest, once upon a time, but he certainly knows how to put his body to good use. 

It could be terribly awkward between them the next morning, when they wake up side by side in Laura’s bed, though James looks adorable with his short blond hair sticking up in a thousand different directions and a deep crease in his cheek from the press of the pillowcase. But thankfully James is in the same frame of mind Laura finds herself with: it was a damn good night, and they’d both been drinking, so this shouldn’t change anything between them.

Once Laura closes the front door behind him, after a friendly exchange of kisses to cheeks, she leans back against it for a second, thinking. It can’t happen again, of course, but she finds she truly has no regrets. They’ll keep things normal when next they meet, professional and friendly. They’re both grown-ups. They know each other well enough. One drunken fumble shouldn’t matter, as long as that’s all it is. Once, and never again.

But it does happen again, and Laura is the one to take matters into her own hands, quite literally, on a night when she is desperately in need of human contact. James hasn’t left her side since leaping into the makeshift grave to rescue her, lifting her out cradled safely in his strong arms, and he’d even sat with her while the paramedics checked her over, holding her hand tightly the entire time. He hovers outside her bathroom door while she cries quietly in the shower, then tucks her into bed as if she was a child, before finally he lies down on top of the blankets by her side.

That won’t do. Laura is full of fear and anger and hurt, but she’s alive, thank god, and James is the one who rescued her. James believed she was innocent all along while she knows Robbie doubted her at times, and James is the one who saved her life – she knows it’s all far more complicated than that, but those are the only facts that matter right then, so she rolls over and kisses him, needing to feel something else. Something more.

James is a bloody good kisser, even better sober than he was when drunk, and when Laura slides her hand down between his legs she finds him already half-hard and more than willing to let her climb on top of him and take what she needs.

It’s celebration as much as lust, and relief as much as desire. And it’s wonderful.

Laura certainly has no regrets the next morning. She’s grateful to James, and thankful, this generous man who was right there for her when she needed him to be. She kisses him on the lips when they say goodbye, glad to find him kissing her right back, and she relishes his nervous little bow even as his blue eyes light up before he heads off into the morning, a smile hovering on his face.

From that moment on, something seems to keep drawing them back together, and as the weeks go by Laura finds she doesn’t want to analyse things too closely, choosing instead to enjoy regular, great sex with a good and trusted friend. She doesn’t feel guilty about any of it, even if she suspects she should, and she can only hope that James doesn’t feel guilty either, though goodness only knows what goes on in that big, brilliant brain of his.

They aren’t doing anything wrong, though the third part of their trio is always hovering somewhere in the back of Laura’s mind whenever she is alone with James. A part of her has been quietly in love with Robbie for years, after all, watching him grieve for his wife, and hoping he’ll be strong enough to move on one day. But at the same time, she hasn’t actually been waiting for him; she’s dated on and off, both one night stands and slightly longer love affairs that fizzle out after a few weeks for one reason or another.

Laura knows that James is in love with Robbie too, and that fact both complicates and simplifies everything at the same time.

She knows that she’s shouted Robbie’s name occasionally when she’s reached orgasm, and James has done that too, whether or not he’s realised. Laura sometimes thinks about Robbie when James is moving deep inside of her, wondering how different it would feel to be with him instead – not better, she suspects, just different – and she also knows that James is sometimes thinking the very same thing.

This, perhaps, is why it works, whatever _it_ is. The sex is bloody good, and both of them just happen to be in love with someone else, someone neither of them can have. It’s one way to keep their expectations realistic, and make sure things stay completely unconditional. 

They are both free and consenting adults, they’re already close friends, and clearly they are quite compatible in the bedroom department. Their tastes happen to match up quite nicely, and James is just as perfectly proportioned as she could possibly have hoped, the ideal size for her to ride enthusiastically for hours at a time. Something he is more than willing to allow, his hands roaming all over as he lies flat on his back, teasing at her breasts and caressing her body.

James particularly seems to enjoy it when Laura takes charge, and it becomes a game of sorts for her, learning to read him well enough to see exactly what he wants. What he needs. He is learning to read her in the exact same way, without either of them actually talking about it. Quite often they come together in search of comfort, after a horrendous case for James or a long and nasty day for Laura, and some nights he needs to be held down and forced to stop thinking, while on other nights she just needs to be held tightly and treated like she is made of fine china.

Some nights they go to her place, on others they go to his, complete with the giant mirror and the stone lion’s head that always makes Laura feel as if she’s being watched. It gives her a guilty shiver of pleasure each time, and she’d love to ask where it came from, but they don’t talk about things like that. They don’t talk about why their one attempt to make love in Laura’s office failed so miserably, either, though they do replicate the glorious experience they shared on the back seat of James’s new car.

They don’t always make love at all, and Laura soon finds that she sleeps better on the nights when she is in bed by his side, his long arms always snaking their way around her waist as he slides closer during the night. On the nights when they are apart, she often wakes for no good reason in the early hours, feeling more alone than she has done for years. 

He’s always a perfect gentleman, of course, and soon it’s normal to find him cooking breakfast for her when they’ve spent the night together, though they never follow that up by sharing a car to work. They don’t talk about whatever it is between them – Laura detests the term fuck-buddies while secretly suspecting that’s exactly what they are – but by mutual, silent agreement they keep it very much to the bedroom. They don’t ‘date’, they don’t talk about their feelings, and they certainly never flaunt it in front of Robbie.

Robbie still figures it out, of course, brilliant detective that he is. In some ways Laura is surprised it takes him as long as it does – she and James have been having sex for months when Robbie finally seems to notice something in the air between the two of them. She’s suspected for quite a while that he knows exactly how they both feel about him, even if he’s still far too much in love with the ghost of his wife to be able to face it in any way, and both she and James have always been more than content to be the supportive friends he so clearly needs. 

And again, she wonders if it’s any real surprise that they’ve found their own comfort and support in each other’s arms.

The three of them are sitting in the pub one night, sharing a few quiet drinks and some easy conversation after a fairly ordinary and uneventful day, when Robbie seems to pause for the briefest of moments, his bright and questioning blue eyes flickering back and forth between them. Laura watches the pieces visibly snapping into place, though Robbie carries right on talking about his daughter as if nothing has changed.

She has no idea what gave them away, but she slides a fraction further away from James on the bench, feeling him move in the opposite direction at the same time, and she suddenly feels cold without the warmth of his long body pressed up against her side. She knows in her gut that the time has come for them to talk about it. They should have talked about it weeks ago. Months ago, even.

But as they walk home talking soon turns predictably to arguing, because even on the best of days James can’t ever talk about the way he feels, while Laura is feeling angry at herself and the whole world. She finds herself questioning everything they’ve been doing. Why did they start it up in the first place? In the middle of the road beneath a blinking streetlight she hears herself demanding to know where the hell James thought this was going, and what he expected to happen when Robbie inevitably found out.

James asks her what she wants, his deep voice sounding almost nervous somehow, and her anger drains as quickly as it arrived, when she realises that she doesn’t actually care what Robbie thinks. The only man whose opinion matters is standing right in front of her, hunched over slightly as if expecting her to hit out at him or at least to push him away. The man who has been her comfort and friend, and has denied her nothing, never demanding anything more than she has been willing to give.

And Laura knows exactly what she wants. She hopes and thinks that James wants it too.

She takes his hand with a smile and tugs him forwards, relieved beyond all measure when he falls immediately into step with her, shortening his stride as easily as if he’s been doing it for years.


	3. Robbie

Robbie’s always known how they both feel about him.

He’s always known, and he’s always been grateful beyond words that neither Laura nor James have ever said anything explicit to him.

He does love them both, very much so, but he’ll never be _in_ love with either of them.

Laura has made subtle overtures over the years, giving Robbie the option of ‘something more’ but never pushing him. Coffee, or dinner. An art exhibition here, an opera there, always under the cloak of friendship. Two rooms booked, when they go away for a few days together, and never anything physical beyond a peck on the cheek or walking side by side with arms loosely entwined.

They’ve not even held hands. That might have been too much, Robbie always felt, too personal.

Laura’s careful yet warm friendship has been lovely, yet it’s been about as much as Robbie can bear. Too much, at times, and she’s somehow known when to back off just as he starts to feel cornered or claustrophobic.

Yet Robbie has always suspected that Laura hopes for more from him. He knows she’s been on other dates with other men, and nothing ever quite seems to work out for her. He’s always told himself he doesn’t feel jealous, knowing he has no hold over her, though deep down he knows there probably isn’t another word for the way his stomach twists whenever he sees her with someone else. 

Laura retreats back to Robbie sooner or later, and while he’s always glad to have her company once again, at the same time he desperately hopes that she isn’t waiting for him. He simply doesn’t know how to tell her that she’s wasting her time.

He’s still in love with Val, and he always will be.

He’s a one-true-love sort of man, and Val was that one, for him. A bit old-fashioned perhaps, but then that’s him all over, isn’t it?

And then there’s James. James has always been a bit less subtle than Laura in his bid for Robbie’s friendship, worming his way steadily and determinedly into Robbie’s life, though he’s far more discreet about his deeper thoughts and dreams. It took Robbie a long time to even realise the true depth of James’s feelings for him; he’s a good detective, though, and James has let his guard slip on rare occasions. But Robbie also knows that James holds out no hope at all of anything more from him than simple friendship. 

James certainly isn’t waiting patiently for Robbie to get over his dead wife and move on.

Robbie has never known if he should feel relieved about that or just a little sad for his younger friend.

James is the one who brought Robbie back to life in so many ways, with a pint or two after work, fish and chips on the way home later, or a simple game of squash at the weekends.

Even more so than Laura with her invitations for home-cooked meals, the sight of James arriving on Robbie’s doorstep with a bag of takeaway curry has always lifted Robbie’s heart and brought a smile to his face.

It probably helps that Robbie genuinely believes James gets something in return from their friendship. All he can ever bring Laura is disappointment. With James, he can smooth some of his friend’s rougher edges and nudge him gently out of his comfort zone, just as James does the very same for him at times.

They fit, Robbie and James, far more than Robbie and Laura do in some ways. They make sense. And Robbie would be lying if he said he’d never wondered if, in another life, the two of them…

Well. Pointless to wonder. Robbie’s heart belongs to Val and it always will – oh, he knows that she would want him to move on, but it’s been years now and the pain of her loss is still just as sharp as it was on that very first day.

Robbie’s just learned to hide his pain better.

So he’s grateful that Laura has never said a word out loud, even if her hopeful eyes and the occasional aborted attempt at holding hands might speak differently. And he’s grateful that James has never once tried to talk to him directly about anything more personal than which brand of whiskey he prefers. The two of them don’t really do meaningful conversations, thank goodness.

There’s still so much he doesn’t know about James, though he feels he knows Laura’s entire life story. He should ask, perhaps, but then James doesn’t pry into Robbie’s private life nor does he offer details of his own. It might be a form of self-defence, keeping his feelings close to his chest in order to protect his heart, or it might just be the way James is. Robbie suspects the latter is more likely.

He should encourage them both to move on. He should push them away, somehow, but both James and Laura seem content enough to simply love Robbie unconditionally, each in their own quiet ways. And Robbie is so ridiculously grateful to have both of them in his life that he can’t bring himself to feel guilty, though he knows he probably should. He’s nearly lost both of them more than once, and the memory of the terror he’s felt on each occasion still makes his heart skip a beat. He needs them, both of them, and they seem happy enough to stay close to him. 

He isn’t quite sure when things start to change. Looking back, there isn’t a time or a date he can put his finger on and say yes, that’s when it all went a little wrong between them.

But ‘wrong’ isn’t the correct word, nor is ‘odd’. There isn’t any tension, never has been, as Laura’s know James for far longer than Robbie has, and they’ve always gotten along well enough. More than well enough to gang up on Robbie when they feel he’s working too much or not eating healthily enough, certainly, not that either of them have much right to lecture him on that particular topic. James in particular is not great at setting him a good example, but Robbie pretends to tolerate their fussing while secretly appreciating their care.

Perhaps there’s simply a different note in the air when they are all together, or a different tone when the three of them talk. But whatever _it_ is, and whenever _it_ begins, Laura’s dinner invitations seem to come a little less frequently, and James starts to leave the pub after one pint rather than two.

It isn’t anything obvious, in hindsight, but then the two of them have long since proved to Robbie that they are skilled at keeping their true thoughts and feelings hidden from him when they really put their minds to it.

It isn’t anything obvious, but one night, one normal night in the pub like a hundred before, Robbie suddenly sees it, halfway through sharing an anecdote about his daughter and her partner. And it _is_ obvious, blindingly so. He stumbles over his words briefly but manages to keep going somehow, knowing that both Laura and James have noticed something.

The two of them had been sitting close together on a bench seat opposite Robbie, shoulder to shoulder – shoulder to bicep, really, given James’s lanky height and Laura’s more petite form – and Robbie watches as they shift apart almost guiltily. Laura’s hand had been resting quite high up on James’s thigh, but she quickly withdraws it, and the couple are careful not to make eye contact with each other. James’s fiery blush speaks volumes, while Laura is blinking far too rapidly.

It’s not Robbie’s place to comment, and what on earth could he ever say, so he makes no mention of what he sees. James and Laura say nothing to him about it in return, instead just keeping the conversation flowing as smoothly as they can, and they all soon break apart for the evening. James has already offered to walk Laura home – now that Robbie thinks about it, he’s been doing that a lot recently.

Robbie walks home by himself rather than calling a taxi, scuffing his feet on the curb and burying his hands deep in his pockets. He feels numb. There’s no sense of betrayal, and no anger, just a strange numbness and a faint tingling in his fingertips.

He should’ve seen it sooner. He calls himself a detective, yet he didn’t even see that his two closest friends were growing closer to each other day by day.

Now that he actually thinks about it, they make a strange sort of sense, James and Laura. Both of them have logical minds, both of them are clever and sarcastic. Bit of an age gap, mind, but not so much of one as to seem particularly improper. Both with sunny hair and clear blue eyes. Both so beautiful, in their own ways.

Is it just sex, Robbie can’t help but wonder, or is it something deeper? Do they hold each other close at night, and tell each other their deepest secrets? Does Laura know something about James’s past – has he perhaps opened up to her in a way that he never has with Robbie? None of Robbie’s business, of course, not any of it, but still he wonders. They aren’t his, but still…

His stomach twists painfully at the thought of the two of them, alone, together. It’s not jealousy, he reminds himself firmly. He has absolutely no right to feel jealous.

He should wish them nothing but happiness, but somehow he can’t. Not now. Not yet.

Maybe not ever.

Robbie wonders briefly if they’ve done it just to spite him, then dismisses the thought immediately. Neither Laura nor James have a single spiteful bone in their bodies.

And then it hits him, the realisation so hard and so heavy that he stops dead in the middle of the street, unable to take another step.

He’s lost them both.

They were never his to lose, though he knows they loved him once. Apparently that love wasn’t quite so unconditional after all.

He’s lost them.


	4. James and Laura

The heat of expectation builds between them as James walks hand in hand with Laura, the pair of them wearing matching grins and gradually picking up their pace as they grow ever closer to her house. The confusion and arguments from earlier in the evening are all but forgotten, as are thoughts of anyone else but Laura: all James can think about now is how lucky he truly is, to have stumbled almost blindly into something so unexpectedly wonderful.

This is so much more than he ever thought he could have.

In the end, they barely make it inside Laura’s front door before they are all over each other, kissing passionately, and tearing at each other’s clothes as both of them seem to desperately need skin to skin contact. 

He presses kiss after kiss to Laura’s soft lips, and she actually rips his shirt open, sending tiny buttons flying to the floor to be doubtless trodden on painfully at some point in the future. When they are both finally, blessedly naked, he surprises himself and startles a laugh from Laura by lifting her into his arms with a growl of sheer want, taking her right there in the hallway.

Laura wraps her slender legs around his waist and twines one arm tightly around his neck, sliding the other up into his hair and tugging almost painfully on the short strands there, sending a shiver of pleasure through James as he braces them against the wall and moves faster, harder, deeper.

She’s so beautiful, and she’s so lovely, and gentle, and kind. And she’s the one, he realises abruptly, trying his hardest to pour all his love into his actions as she gasps his name into the night. _His_ name, James, and he knows she is thinking only of him, perhaps for the first time since this all began, all those wonderful months earlier. 

_Laura_ , he cries out, though he bites back the other words he longs to share – _I love you_. This isn’t the time or the place, but soon, perhaps. Hopefully.

After all they’ve been through, he suddenly feels as if they’ve only just begun.

* * *

When Laura awakens the next morning with James sleeping peacefully by her side, she somehow just knows, and the knowledge makes her smile contentedly.

He’s the one.

Nothing has truly changed between them since that first morning all those months earlier, and yet, at the same time, absolutely everything has changed for the better.

They are lying tangled together in Laura’s bed, her head pillowed on James’s slightly bony shoulder with his long arms wrapped loosely around her waist. Their legs are entwined beneath the blankets, and when Laura lifts her head a fraction she can just about see that they never quite managed to close the curtains in their rush to fall into bed last night, the early morning sunshine flooding the room with a clear, clean light. 

In that light, James’s soft blond hair is shining brightly, his face still relaxed in sleep and his skin almost glowing. He’s so handsome, and so generous and brilliant, and Laura is so lucky to have found him. This is so much more than she could ever have dreamed of.

It may well be that a part of both of them will always love someone else, but as James snuggles closer to her with a sleepy little grumble her heart feels so full it could almost burst, and she can’t resist leaning closer to whisper in his ear.

It’s the first time she’s said it, and perhaps she wouldn’t say it now if he wasn’t asleep, but somehow it feels like the perfect moment.

_I love you._

Of course, James is clearly far more awake than Laura realises, and to her surprise and relief he turns his head towards her on the pillows, blinking his eyes open as a delighted yet sleepy smile appears on his lips. And he whispers the very same words right back to her.

Then James pulls Laura closer before kissing her, with an aching tenderness that almost brings tears to her eyes, and it feels like the very beginning of something truly unconditional.


End file.
